


Moonlight

by Windborn



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Old Friends, Ship Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windborn/pseuds/Windborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve years after the schism was dispelled, a postponed business dinner leaves Alvin drinking alone in a Trigleph bar, when some unexpected company makes him question years of isolation from his oldest friends.</p>
<p>AU in that it ignores Xillia 2 and all supplementary material between the two games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight

"One Moonlight on the rocks." Alvin took off his coat and perched on a tall chair, leaning his elbows on the polished wood bar. Posh establishment, this--if the prices weren't clue enough, the liberal use of precious hardwoods would be. Not usually his kind of place, but on Elympios, only the classiest pubs carried Moonlight. His personal stash had run out, and tonight he'd craved a taste of Rieze Maxia.

The bartender looked him over dubiously. "My apologies . . . sir . . . we don't carry tabs here."

Which they did, of course. Alvin had been here often enough with potential clients to know. But they couldn't risk a dine-and-dash with Moonlight on the menu. He dug out his wallet and slid some gald notes across the bar. Rare payment for a rare drink. Easier, at these prices, to scan his GHS, but he'd had the hard cash sitting around for too long, in case of trips to rural Rieze Maxia . . . trips that rarely happened these days. The bartender would take extra notice of Alvin's appearance in the event a theft was later reported, but Alvin didn't much care. He'd earned the money honestly enough.

Without further comment, the bartender poured the softly glowing bourbon into a short, wide glass with just a few ice cubes in the bottom, so as not to dilute the flavor. A true connoisseur took the liqueur as a cordial, but Alvin liked the bourbon's kick, as well as the bite, the hint of sourness, brought out by lower temperatures.

He swirled the drink, savoring the sweet, dark porange scent and watching the faint, reflected glow play along the sides of the textured glass. Slowly, he took a sip, letting the liquid roll over his tongue and trickle down his throat, teasing out every nuance of flavor.

Bliss. No other drink came anywhere close.

Yurgen would probably lecture him for going out to drink alone again, go on about it being unhealthy. He'd make it sound like he worried Alvin was becoming an alcoholic, even though Alvin never drank enough to feel it. What truly bothered him, Alvin suspected, was the persistent solitude.

Tonight would have been a business dinner--just the two of them, no clients this time--but Isla had relapsed, leaving Yurgen no choice but to beg off until a later date. Unable to work up proper sympathy for Isla, even twelve years later, Alvin had agreed without comment. He could give just about anyone a hard time over anything--except this. Whatever his feelings toward Isla, he certainly did feel sorry for Yurgen.

And who else could he snag for a drink at a moment's notice? Clients were clients, not friends. Balan was up to his ears in Spyrites.

Who else could he ask? He hadn't seen any of his old friends in . . . how long? The last visit had been from Jude, three . . . four years ago. And Leia shortly before, but that hadn't gone well. Neither she nor Alvin had been comfortable without one of the others present to help them along. He hadn't known what to say, and she'd seemed to wonder why she'd come.

Besides, they were all at least as busy as he was--he couldn't drop in unannounced just because he felt like it.

Could he?

He shrugged and sipped his bourbon. Didn't make any difference right now.

A bright ripple of laughter interrupted his dreary thoughts. Across the lounge, a handful of young women made their way to a tall, central table. Their eyes sparkled with mischief and amusement, competing with the gems and beads twinkling on hands and necks, and adding a touch of fire to velvet and lace-trimmed gowns. High class ladies, out on the town.

Single ladies, he decided, as their attention lingered on a few knots of young men about the room, and they shared a quick, conspiratorial exchange, faces flushed with excitement. Dressed to the nines, hair seductively coiffed, these women were on the hunt--or seeking to inspire a chase.

One noticed him watching. She was a delicate-looking creature, all in pink velvet and creamy lace, with ash-blonde hair piled high on her head to tumble down over one shoulder in loose curls. She tipped her head, curious, thoughtful, and Alvin quickly returned his attention to his glass.

Best not to let any of them get the wrong idea. Upstanding young women such as these were better off having nothing to do with a man like him. Since Presa, he'd enjoyed nothing more than the occasional fling, always with women as disinterested in commitment as he. All he had to offer nowadays was a ruined reputation.

In fact, to be on the safe side, he probably shouldn't stay long . . .

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as a young waiter approached the table. He greeted them pleasantly, and Alvin thought the lad might just make a good impression. Then one of the girls smiled, radiant as sunlight, the kind of look a lady usually reserved for a beau, and he dropped his notepad. He flushed a brilliant crimson and bent to retrieve it, knocking his head on the table in his haste. To their credit, though they laughed--half the pubgoers who noticed laughed, and more joined in as the incident was relayed--they kindly made sure he wasn't hurt and joked with him until he could look them in the eyes again.

_Nice try, kid._ Alvin tossed back the last of his drink. He stared at the bottom of the glass. _I should go . . ._ He'd quenched his craving. One glass should hold him over until he could get back to Reize Maxia to buy a bottle or two at a decent price.

The bartender's rounds brought him back to Alvin. "Anything else for you, sir?"

_Oh, what the hell._ He slid the glass across the counter. "Another of the same."

The man's eyebrows jumped almost to his hairline.

Alvin dug out another handful of notes. "That a problem?"

"N-not at all." After a moment, he shrugged and took the gald. "Your money," he said, grinning.

"Exactly." Alvin saluted with his refilled glass and savored another sip. "Money isn't good for all that much, my friend. It doesn't buy what matters, so you might as well spend it on things you enjoy."

"That's quite the jaded sentiment, sir."

"No kidding."

Alvin let himself get lost in the Moonlight for a while, let the sights and sounds of the pub fade behind the gentle glow, the sweet, mellow flavor, the velvet caress across his tongue. One glass could last a very, very long time. Or seem to, anyway, when one lost track of the time.

A faint presence at his side, a slight shadow, drew him out of his reverie. The woman who had noticed him earlier. She wore the same, strangely pensive expression, as if he was an interesting puzzle.

"Something I can do for you, miss?"

She blinked, briefly surprised, but she covered it well and seemed to reach some decision. "I was merely wondering why a man like you would be drinking alone in a place like this," she said. Her smile was a bit shy, but genuinely friendly.

"My date stood me up." What made him say that? Granted, it was sort of true, in a sense, but he certainly didn't need to be playing for sympathy. Or touting his availability.

"Oh, that's a shame. I'm very sorry. What did you do?"

"Woah, hey now! That's quite the assumption to make of a stranger, missy."

"A stranger, hmm?" She grinned, eyes full of a mischievousness Alvin wasn't sure he liked. "Fair point. I meant no offense; it just slipped out." She signaled the bartender.

Alvin sighed. She clearly wasn't going anywhere. "If you must know, I was supposed to be having dinner with my business partner. His wife came down sick at the last minute, so he cancelled on me."

"That isn't the same thing at all! A Moonlight cordial, please," she said, as the bartender approached.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to be a gentleman and offer to pay for that. Two is about my limit." He took another sip and again found himself staring at the bottom of an empty glass. Damn. Well, now he had an excuse to leave.

"Don't be silly." As the bartender poured her drink, she added, "Another for this fellow, too, please. If he is so inclined."

The poor bartender looked about ready to call it a night. Moonlight of any variety was not imbibed lightly or in quantity here on Elympios. And it was damned _expensive_.

"You--" He caught himself. "Very well, miss. But--" Finally, he dropped the servile politeness. "Listen, you two. I'm very sorry, but after this, you're cut off." He wrinkled his nose. "We only keep so much of the stuff on hand."

Alvin waved away the man's concerns. "No worries. I'm done." He tipped the glass one last time to catch any remaining drops, then pushed away from the bar with a sigh that felt, mostly, like contentment.

"So soon?" the woman asked. "Are you certain I can't buy you one drink?"

He hesitated. Hadn't he just been mourning his lack of company? What harm was one drink and a few moments of his time? "I'm not sure that would be a good idea, Miss . . . ah . . ."

For the space of a breath, she looked almost indignant, but it passed so quickly he couldn't be sure. Brushing her hair behind her shoulder, she extended a hand. "Friends call me Liz." Her grip was firm, confident.

"And what should I call you?"

"For the sake of argument, Liz is fine."

"Miss Liz. That's a bit awkward."

She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. That look, Alvin liked. Made her seem more like a normal person than a porcelain doll. "Just Liz, thank you." She crooked a finger at the bartender, who wasn't so immune to the charms of patrons he could resist jumping at once to her summons. "Whatever he would like." She pressed her GHS to the scan plate for payment.

Resigned to the inevitable, Alvin ordered the first thing that came to mind.

"So, your partner." Liz sipped the cordial, her face relaxing as if the drink was a spa for the soul. "Will his wife be all right?"

Alvin shrugged. "I suppose so. It's more an old injury that flares up every now and again. She'll get over it."

"You don't sound particularly concerned."

"Not to be callous, but no. We don't exactly get on." At her inquiring glance, he shut the topic down. "Long story." He indicated her drink with his own glass. "You have exquisite taste."

"Expensive taste. At least here. It reminds me of home."

She was just full of surprises! "You're from Rieze Maxia?"

"Yes."

Damn, should he know her? He had contact with just about all the Rieze Maxian nobility--and the simply wealthy--but he couldn't place Liz. New money? No, couldn't be. A fast rise made lots of noise; he would have gotten wind of it. "What brings you here?"

"I come from time to time. You've been to Rieze Maxia."

"Yep. Part of my job. I've spent a lot of time there." A _lot_ of time.

"So I understand."

Alvin did a double-take. "Pardon?"

Liz looked at him sidelong, lingered over another sip. "Alfred Vint Svent. Your reputation precedes you."

"Oh man." Suddenly sheepish, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Not sure how I feel about that." People knowing him on sight wasn't unusual here in Trigleph, but out-of-towners still usually required an introduction. Rieze Maxians certainly did. "Almost afraid to ask what you've heard."

"Nothing damning. Your clients certainly speak highly of you, at any rate. But rumor is you grew up on the 'Otherworld,' as you Elympions call it." Something about that comment seemed to amuse her. Her pale lips curled around the rim of her glass, a smile she couldn't seem to suppress.

What was going on in that pretty little head? _She's teasing me, but I can't put a finger on how._ "Heh. Well, I guess that's-- Hey!"

A cloud of smoke rolled over them as a man to Alvin's left took a long drag on a cigar. "Got a problem?"

"Yeah, I do. You're blowing smoke in the lady's face. Not to mention mine." He waved the cloud away. He wanted to take the bastard by the scruff and frog march him to the door.

Perhaps sensing his impulse, Liz caught his eye and shook her head a fraction.

The man ignored Alvin's bluster. "Then the lady can take herself elsewhere." He sized Alvin up, unimpressed. "You're welcome to hang around if you wanna make an issue of it. I could use the workout."

"You--"

Delicate fingers brushed the back of Alvin's hand. "Leave him." Liz slid two seats further along the bar and beckoned Alvin after her.

He followed. Obliging her request wasn't the same as backing down. Right?

"I was hoping we might take a walk. That lout has provided me an excuse to suggest it, although I would rather have finished my drink first." The drink's pale light filled out her narrow face, making her look even younger as she drank.

But the damage was done. Offensive smells--or pleasant ones, if they were strong enough--overwhelmed the flavor, turning it sour, or bitter, or, as so often happened in seahavens, rancid. Liz set the cordial on the bar with a deep sigh.

"Ah, you can't give up on it that easily." Alvin called the bartender back again. _Poor man must feel like a yo-yo. But let's see if we can't keep this conversation inside._ "Do you stock porange syrup?"

"Of course!" He answered archly, as if Alvin had asked a gunsmith if he stocked bullets. Never mind that a little over a decade ago, the only Elympions who had even heard of poranges were the ones stuck in Rieze Maxia.

"How much for a few drops?"

More smoke wafted by, and the bartender's brows knitted in displeasure. Any mixer worth his salt knew how the reek would affect Moonlight.

"Yeah. I'd like to salvage the lady's drink."

"You can do that?" He fetched a bright bottle from beneath the counter. "Tell you what, friend." Leaning across the bar, he continued in a conspiratorial undertone. "You show me how to do that, and next time we're both here, you can have a glass on the house."

Quite the reward for such a simple thing! Grinning, Alvin shook his head. "One bottle of Moonlight, at cost. No markup." It would save him the extra trip to Rieze Maxia.

"We don't have the stock. Might be able to manage that in a couple weeks, though."

"Fine by me." Alvin extended a hand, and they shook on the agreement. "Now then. Your glass, Liz."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she passed him the drink.

Taking a deep breath, Alvin tested the smell. Then, while the two watched in fascinated horror, he carefully measured three drops of syrup into the glass. To aficionados, dilution bordered on sacrilege. He swirled the glowing liquid, then handed it back. "There we go. Try it now."

Her fingers brushed his as she took the glass, sending a chill up his arm, and a beguiling flush blossomed on her cheeks.

Careful not to react so the drink wouldn't spill, Alvin did pull back a bit faster than might have been strictly necessary. His arm tingled. _Damn. This isn't going to go as planned, is it?_

Liz tentatively sipped the doctored Moonlight, and her face lit up like morning. "You fixed it! The flavor is just like before. How . . . ?"

Ignoring the way that smile made his chest tight, Alvin handed the bottle of syrup back to the astonished bartender. "Simple. The syrup intensifies the flavor to cut through the contamination from your sense of smell. Try that under ideal drinking conditions, though, and it'll be sweet enough to choke you. If you're asking how I discovered that little trick, though--" he winked, "--there's a very inventive barkeep in Sapstrath Seahaven. Or used to be. Air gets pretty fishy in such places. I was in town for a few days; the bar was having a dry spell; and we were both bored half out of our minds. We started experimenting with the stock. This was by far the most profitable discovery."

"Well if you ever meet him again, please pass along my most humble thanks," said the bartender. "I've been trying to talk the manager into making this place smoke-free. The air filtration is doing no good like this. But he's a smoker, himself, and none too keen on the idea."

"I'll have to stop in the next time I pass through Sapstrath," Liz said. Her dark eyes reflected the pale glow, turning them almost autumn gold. "Thank you."

Caught by those eyes, Alvin couldn't find his voice. Rather than risking digging this hole any deeper, he finished his own drink in silence. Instead of savoring the Moonlight as she had been, Liz matched her pace to his and finished about the same time.

She pushed her empty glass across the bar, sighing contentedly. A few glimmering beads of liquid clung to the inside. "So, Alfred." She looked at him sidelong, her smile teasing, her posture not _quite_ languid enough to be suggestive. "What about that walk? I've about had enough of this place."

"Look, Liz--"

"Just a walk. I hope you don't think I have other intentions." But that mysterious smile suggested otherwise.

He rubbed his forehead. Asking a stranger to escort her--she clearly hadn't considered his possible intentions. How naïve was she? Granted, he just wanted to find his own bed, as empty as he'd left it this morning.

"And if you were to try anything . . . " she continued, as if reading his thoughts, and raised one finger. A tiny channeling circle formed at the tip--such astonishing control!--and she blew on it, sending a puff of dark mana to knock him between the eyes with little more force than a finger flick. "You'd regret it, trust me."

"You'd have to do better than that to slow me down. Anyway, what about the girls' night out?" He nodded toward the table she'd left, where her friends still sat. Looked like their efforts were at least partly successful. A few young men sat with them.

She waved dismissively. "Oh, they won't miss me. I'm a bit of a downer on these outings. Not very good at conversing with strangers."

Alvin blinked at her, incredulous. Two contradictions in as many arguments against this idea. If she possessed enough channeling skill for him not to worry her, why did she feel the need for an escort at all? And surely she didn't expect him to believe she couldn't talk to strangers!

Apparently she took his lack of further protest for consent. "Please excuse me for a moment while I tell them I'm leaving." Before he could protest further, she darted off, heels tapping joyously on the wooden floor near the bar, then falling into silence as she crossed to the carpeted dining area.

The bartender returned to collect their glasses, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "You know," he said, "I don't think I've ever seen a man who so obviously didn't want accosted by a pretty lady. Not a straight man, anyway."

Alvin snorted.

"You _could_ take this opportunity to make a run for it."

True. He looked toward the door. He could definitely be out and gone before she could follow. She might be disappointed, but that would pass. In the long run, she'd be better off not getting mixed up with him. In the short term . . .

Leaving without a word would be unforgivably rude.

He shouldn't care. Meeting her again was unlikely. Still, for some reason, he didn't want her to think badly of him.

Resigned, he tipped the bartender and shrugged himself into his coat. "That wouldn't be very gentlemanly."

He waited at the edge of the dining area for her to finish explaining the situation to her friends. When she returned, he bowed and offered her his arm like a proper escort.

Grinning in delighted surprise, she hooked her wrist around his elbow. "Given in to the inevitable, have you?"

"Could say that." He held open the door, and they passed from the bright threshold into the mottled darkness of nighttime Trigleph. "You made it pretty clear attempting to convince you otherwise wasn't worth the effort."

"Exactly as planned."

"Manipulative little thing, aren't you?"

"I learned from the best."

"Then I'd better keep my wits about me." He gestured grandly, indicating the street before them and the city beyond. "Well, my lady, where do your whims wish to guide us?"

Liz made a show of deliberation, making Alvin fairly certain she knew exactly where she wanted to go. Finally, she pointed toward a street off to the right, letting Alvin make some guesses about her objective. Not many public venues out that way, just a few private gardens kept by some of Trigleph's elite.

Just a walk, huh? Oh boy.

At least the Svents owned no property out there. Small blessings.

They talked aimlessly along the way. Liz was remarkably easily to talk to, and an intelligent conversationalist, well-versed in a wide range of issues concerning Rieze Maxia and Elympios. She could offer commentary on everything from politics to Spyrite progress, and even knew a surprising amount about his own export business. This one kept her ears to the ground. She'd visited almost as many places in both worlds as he, and knew far more of their histories. She was witty and intelligent, and adorably shy beneath her beguiling confidence.

_And too damn young, and . . . well . . ._ nice _. . . to get involved with a sour old bastard like me._ Seemed more a shame every time he thought it.

Wide, dusty lanes narrowed to elegantly cobbled walks overgrown with meticulously cultivated ornamental fruit trees, ferns, and long grasses. Lush--for Elympios. A light tug on his arm turned Alvin's steps toward a patio lit with lumen grass exported from Sharilton. Flowering shrubs native to Xian Du stood in huge stone pots, heavy trails of blossoms perfuming the walled garden. Wooden tabletops and the backs and seats of chairs were carved with the spirit whorls of Nia Khera, and somehow matched perfectly their wrought-iron bases that could only have come from Trigleph itself. A similarly-designed railing guarded the farthest edge of the garden, overlooking the harbor and the Elympion Sea.

The owner of this little alcove had a _very_ expensive Rieze Maxia fetish. All these reminders twisted like a knife in his gut. He _missed it_ , damn it! The brilliant glow of Fenmont, glimmering petals falling like spirit-infused snow--the look on Leia's face, seeing them for the first time, had been priceless. As bright with wonder as the trees themselves. Nia Khera's quiet, peaceful atmosphere, infuriatingly restful, and Milla's oblivious concern for her devoted people. Forbidding Kanbalar, with its shining, snowy streets and rock facades, and all the little changes and improvements that had come about since Rowen became Prime Minister and replaced Wingul as Gaius's chief advisor.

Alvin shook his head. Not a good time to be distracted. When did he get so damned sentimental? He noticed Liz watching him curiously. "Nice." Too slow. Pretty obvious he hadn't been paying attention. "Someone's put together quite the hideaway. Must've cost 'em a small fortune."

She stepped away from him and ran her fingers lightly over the spirals adorning the back of a chair as she crossed the patio to lean against the railing. "Less than you would think. Dual citizens can bypass the tariffs."

Halfway to the railing Alvin realized he was following her, the pull as irresistible as a magnet to iron filings. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Damned lack of willpower. When he joined her by the railing, he deliberately kept a good arm's length away. "That isn't easy to get. Most folks don't bother." Jude and Leia had, but Rowen, as an official of Rieze Maxia, was ineligible. Last Alvin had heard, Elize had intended to, but was still too young to apply.

"True, but it's worthwhile if you can manage it." She glanced at the space between him. "Pardon my curiosity, but why were you in that bar alone?"

"I told you. My business partner--"

Her quick headshake surprised him into silence. "No. That's why you weren't at dinner. Surely your friends would be more than happy to join you for an evening."

"Don't be ridiculous." He leaned his elbows on the rail and laced his fingers together, afraid his hands would shake. "They're busy people. I can't just bother them out of the blue."

"Why not? Isn't that what friends are for?"

Thoughts ground to a halt, and he stared at her for several long moments. _Why does she care?_ he managed at last. A bitter laugh escaped him. "You think? Fine, if you're so curious. Truth? I don't know if they'd even want to see me. No one's been by in years."

But Liz was relentless. She gently took his hand and turned him to face her. "And how long since you have been to see them?"

How long? A while. He couldn't remember exactly.

"Is it possible they think you've cut ties?"

Possible? Put that way, it seemed damn likely.

She must have read his answer in his face. Her fingers lightly brushed his cheek. "You poor dear. This looks like subconscious self-exile to me. You should pay them a visit."

Alvin flinched away from her touch. "I--"

"No excuses." She wouldn't let him pull away, instead closing the space between them. She intertwined her fingers with his and rose on tiptoe. "What are you afraid of?" she whispered, breath teasing his mouth.

And she kissed him. Gentle, a chaste brush of lips before she pulled back, her smile suddenly shy, green eyes dark as porange leaves in the lumen light.

Who did poranges remind him of? He couldn't think.

She offered kindness, company, contact, like a gift. His resolve to--what? Sulk in needless solitude?--crumbled, worn down by relentless compassion, and he raised a trembling hand to her face, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheek.  
Liz closed her eyes.

She tasted like Moonlight, sweet and shining and heady, racing through his veins. As her fingers tightened around his, he breathed her in like the Sharilton breeze. Her lips were soft and insistent, teasing him until there was nothing in the world but this.

Tears stung his eyes, and he pulled away before he lost himself entirely.

Liz clung to the railing as though her knees didn't want to hold her. She giggled, a little breathless. "Well, that certainly lived up to-- Alvin? What's wrong?"

Dropping onto the nearest chair, he pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes. Spirits, but he'd been a fool! Jude had attempted to talk Alvin into regular visits, but after the awkwardness with Leia . . . but at least she'd tried!

Tugging his hands away from his face, Liz crouched in front of him, her pretty face drawn tight with anxiety. "Al--"

So, he'd go. He needed to make the trip anyway, check in with his suppliers in person every once in a while . . . right? Might as well stop and see everyone. He probably _should_ send word ahead, but if he put too much thought into it, he'd talk himself out of--

Hang on.

"What did you say?"

"Are you all right?"

"No. Before that."

She seemed confused, but he let her think. Saved him from having to. "O-oh. That." Biting her lip, she pushed herself upright and paced a tight circle before settling again by the railing. "I've wondered for years what that would be like, with you. When I finally convinced myself to find out the next time we met, I couldn't work up the nerve to visit." Her sidelong smile and the lift of her chin held a bit of daring. "You certainly live up to your reputation."

"My--" No, focus. He'd let her lead him right where she wanted him. Time to turn that around. "The next time? No, wait. You called me--" No good. Mouth and brain refused to coordinate. He could still taste Moonlight.

Her bright laugh rippled through the night air like starlight. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" Lacing her fingers behind her, she returned to smile down at him. "Perhaps a different approach?"

"Huh?"

Light as the brush of a butterfly's wing, she kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry for not keeping my promise," she murmured. "But even sworn friends appreciate if you meet them halfway, you know."

Alvin touched his cheek, gingerly, half expecting its tingling to resolve into pain. She wasn't making sense. Or he wasn't making sense of her. Déjà vu swept over him, leaving him reeling in its wake, as though his seat moved with him. He stared into those rich, green eyes. "Liz . . . _Elize_?"

Her face brightened with a genuine grin, and he realized just how nervous and uncertain she'd been tonight, though she'd hidden it very well. "Hello, Alvin. It's been a while."

"You've gotta be kidding me . . . " But no, he could see it now. Her posture, that inquisitive tilt of her head, the eyes . . . _Damn, the eyes . . ._ "You really are."

"Of course. I'm sorry for tricking you." She didn't look particularly contrite. "But when you didn't recognize me, the opportunity was too good to let pass."

"Yeah." Alvin rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. He couldn't meet her gaze. "Sorry about that." _I didn't expect Elize to turn up in Trigleph at all, let alone as such a--_ He put the brakes hard on that thought.

"That isn't what you should be apologizing for." She planted her hands on her hips and leaned over him. "Not one visit, Alvin!"

"Well, what about you?"

"Me?"

"You've obviously spent a fair amount of time in Elympios, missy, but I haven't seen even one flicker of your yellow hair." He trailed a lock between his fingers, and she impatiently tugged it away.

"Don't be silly. I was in school for much of that time. After . . . " She lost momentum, and her indignity crumbled. "As I said. I couldn't work up the nerve."

He couldn't really argue with that. He'd become an expert at making up legitimate excuses for his isolation, so he could ignore his own cowardice.

Elize perched on the edge of the chair opposite his. Silence stretched between them, anxious and uncomfortable, and unwelcome after their easy discourse earlier. But the longer it lasted, the harder it grew to break.

"You could have called," they both said at once.

They stared at one another. In the distance, a clock chimed. Chimed again. Elize chewed her lip. Alvin coughed to hide a chuckle. Another chime.

They both burst out laughing.

"All right, all right!" Alvin said, when he could breathe again. "I screwed up. No surprise there. So, Miss Lutus, how might I earn your forgiveness?"

She attempted to respond with equal theatrical gravitas, but that only sent her into another fit of giggles. "St-stop it!" She wiped away tears and waved him into silence. "Oh, Alvin, I messed up, too. No, just . . . come back to Rieze Maxia with me."

He laced his fingers beneath his chin, propping his elbows on his knees. "Guess I really should make the effort. Stop by and say hello the next time I touch base with my clients."

"Oh no," she said. "That won't do at all. Knowing you . . . "

Alvin raised an eyebrow.

"If you wait, you'll talk yourself out of it. Again."

"I can't just dash off without a word. Hazard of running a business." He drummed his fingers on the table, caught a carven whorl and followed it a moment, like it could lead him to the proper response. "Really should at least drop a quick line to everyone, too. Warn them I'm coming." _In case they want an excuse to be elsewhere,_ his insecurities added.

Elize shook her head, sending her blonde ringlets bouncing. "They won't care. Do you have your GHS?"

"Of course."

"May I see it?"

Bemused, he handed it over. She flipped it open and went to work. Whatever she was looking for, it didn't take her long to find. With a final tap, she put it to her ear.

"What--"

She held up one hand, smiling enigmatically. "Hello, Yurgen. . . . No, this is Elize Ludus. I'm not sure if you remember . . . " She winced. "True. How is she? I heard she relapsed. . . . That's good to hear. Listen, Yurgen, I'm just calling to let you know I'm kidnapping your partner. . . . Where else? He's avoided it too long. I'm not letting him come up with excuses not to take the trip as soon as possible. . . . When?" She eyed Alvin speculatively. "I'm thinking tomorrow."

"Elize, that's--"

"Hush, you. . . . No, Alvin's arguing." Yurgen's response made her laugh. "Of course! Do you think you can manage without him for a while? . . . Bless you, Yurgen, you're a dear! . . . Thank you. My best to you and Isla. . . . No, it's fine. Have a good night. There," she said, returning Alvin's GHS. "All taken care of."

Alvin wanted to be angry. She waltzed into his life after years of silence, lured him into whatever the hell it was that just happened, and then started directing him about, heedless of his protests, expecting no complaint? How dare she?

But if he was being honest with himself--and he did try, or at least tried to be aware of the lies--he'd need this. Needed the push.

More than that? He'd needed the company.

"Alvin?"

Like so many times before on their journeys together, he could only stare at her in wonder. Such relentless compassion, iron-willed kindness, and wisdom always beyond her years.

And he still _really_ didn't want to think about her years. Her idea. So why did he feel like he should be locked up?

"Alvin!" Elize lightly swatted the side of his head. "Quit spacing out!"

"Huh? R-right. Sorry." He rubbed his temples. "What were you saying?"

"Spirits give me patience. Alvin!"

He chuckled. "Most of the spirits we know wouldn't be much help in that area."

"Sadly true." Elize stared at him intently, eyes glimmering in the lumen light. "Will you come?"

"Isn't that the whole idea?"

Sighing, she turned away. "When I told Yurgen I was kidnapping you . . . This isn't an abduction, Alvin. I was kidding. If you're truly against it--"

"Hey." He stood and caught her arm, turning her to face him again. "That's not-- Hells! Of course I'll go. It's just damned hard." After a moment, he realized he still held her arm, and abruptly let go. "L-like you said. Without the push, I'd probably never do it." He rubbed the back of his neck. Damn! Women never flustered him like--

_No._

Her sudden laugh made him jump, which only amused her further. "Oh, Alvin. You're adorable. And utterly exasperating. Funny how I only remember the one," she added, with a wink that left him wondering which she meant.

His brain simply could not process the idea--the reality--of an adult Elize.

He sought refuge in vagueness. "Heh. I bet."

No doubt she saw through that, but she didn't call him on it. "So. Tomorrow morning, then? You can pick me up for breakfast, then we'll catch the midmorning train to Marksburg."

Pick her up? Where was she staying? He didn't think she'd said, but it could well have been something else he'd missed.

"Do we need to get the tickets now, so you don't forget?"

"What? No, I . . . " Hang on. This whole time, she'd done her utmost to keep him off-balance, intentionally or otherwise. A bit of both, certainly. All to lead him here. Where did she want him now? And how would he maintain enough willpower to avoid being completely wrapped around her little finger? No . . . she knew what she was doing to him, surely. "One step at a time, princess."

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be." He shook a finger at her, which only made her smile all the wider. "Now, where should I meet you for breakfast?"

"If you'd be a gentleman and escort me back to my hotel, you'd find out."

Alvin raised an eyebrow.

"Just to the hotel, I promise."

"Like this was supposed to be 'just a walk?'"

"Oh . . . um . . . " Suddenly her eyes grew very wide. " _Oh._ Goodness no! Just the kiss, Alvin. I already got what I wanted. No ulterior motives this time. I just . . . " Her breath trembled, and for a moment he feared he'd made her cry. "It's been so long--I'd almost rather we just sit here talking all night. Sleep on the train."

"Hah! You'd lose this old man long before morning, I'm afraid." But she seemed sincere, and startled enough to ease his concerns. He bowed with a flourish and again offered her his arm. "Very well. Lead on! But only to the front door. I'd hate to incur the wrath of any boyfriends I don't know about."

"Alvin!"

"Girlfriends?"

She hooked her arm around his. "You're incorrigible." But she was smiling like the world was perfect, brilliant as a new porange blossom.

Laughing, he risked a quick kiss on the top of her head. "At least some things never change!"


End file.
